Ship Ahoy! A Murderous Scoundrel.
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| Charles La Lievre |
Inspector Charles Le Lievre was a member of the South Australian
Mounted Police Force between 1877 and 1929. He was stationed at various
outposts, including Henley Beach, Salisbury, Nairne, and Renmark. Before coming
to Australia from the Channel Islands, Le Lievre was a sailor.
Le Lievre recounted
many stories about his time in the police force to local newspapers after his
retirement. This is one of them.
While at Nairne in
1897, and making my usual round in the township, I heard someone shouting,-
'Ship ahoy!', I went up to see what was the matter and saw a man in a drunken
state near the hotel. I asked him what was the matter? He told me he was
calling, for his mate. I said to him, 'You had better come, with me and have a
camp,' and took him to the station.
When there he asked me if I would give
him a feed, as he had not had anything to eat that day. ' I gave him a good
feed and' two pannikins of hot tea.
He sat eating what I had given
him on the sill of the cell door. After he had finished, I said to him, 'You
bad better go in and have a camp.'
He got up and said, and said, “What do you take me for, a ____ mug?” and made a
violent blow at me.
A scuffle took place, and I bundled, him into the cell. Shortly afterwards
several local men came to me and informed me that a man was going about the
street vowing that he would “knife the ____ trooper that had caged his mate,'
and that he would knife him if he attempted, to arrest him; and, that whatever
I did to be sure and take my revolver with me, as he appeared to be mad drunk.
I thanked them for telling me, as
forewarned was forearmed. I took my staff, which I placed inside my jacket; and
went in search of this man.
I asked one of the men to follow
me in case I needed assistance. I had not proceeded far when I heard a man
using vile and blasphemous language under the verandah of one of the hotels
further down the street. As I approached him he said, “You're the ____ that
caged my mate,' and so on.
He kept his hand on his side and the handle of
a sheath knife; which was in his belt. '
There are various stages of
drunkenness, such as helplessness and maudlin, but this man was mad drunk and
was like a perfect demon. I could see that
he would not hesitate to knife me.
I had to use stratagem with him: but I was determined at all costs to arrest
him.
I said, “I don't know what you mean by
caging your mate. He has just had a feed, and is now having a camp at the
station.”
“Well,“ he said, 'there's his ______ swag,
you can take that too.”
I
was taking no risk in doing that, for I saw that he was waiting for an opportunity
to take me off my guard, and knife me. I turned around to the landlord, who was
standing by, and said to him, 'Take the swag inside, and give the owner of it a
pint of beer at my expense when he calls for it.”
He said to the landlord, with an oath,
'Leave the swag alone; I'll take it to him.' - I said, “Very well, you can do
that if you like.”
He seemed to be nonplussed at the
cool way I was acting towards him, for I remained calm and collected. He slung
the swag over his shoulder and walked with me towards the station. I kept close
to him and was determined that at the slightest attempt he made to draw his knife
I would use my baton on him.
After proceeding a little way, I said to
him, “I hear that you are a sailor and that you have a knife you are going to
put into me. Do you' call yourself an English sailor?''
He replied with an oath that he was. I
said to him, “I too have been a sailor, and I never yet knew an English sailor
who would use his knife against another. I want you to hand me that knife, let me
have a look at it.”
With that, he drew it out of its sheath. Simultaneously
as he raised his arm, I caught hold of his wrist, giving it 'a sharp twist, and
took possession of the knife. I was then master of the situation. He was taken
by surprise, and said, “'Oh, matey, you're not going to keep my knife, that is the
only one I have to cut my tobacco with.”
I told him I would cut what he wanted.
At the station, I arrested him and
placed him in the cell with the other 'prisoner.
He stamped and swore and acted
like a madman. He opened the swag and drew out from it a new tomahawk, put it
on the cell floor, and walked to where his mate was lying asleep. I nodded to
the man who was with me to get it. He swiftly crossed the cell floor and
brought it out.
I immediately bolted the cell door.
Seeing what we had done he used blasphemous language. In the morning I opened
the cell door, but was prepared for any emergency, and asked them for their
names. The prisoner I had taken the knife from asked “What's the charge, sergeant;
no knifing I hope, for I'm a ____ when in drink?' I replied, 'Fortunately for you, it is not.”
They were both sentenced to a term of
imprisonment at the Nairne Police Court.
The knife, an ugly looking
one was handed over to the Commissioner of Police, and he ordered it to be
placed in the police museum, which contains almost all the weapons with which
the murders and attempted murders and suicides recorded in the State have been
committed. Each article is numbered, and a concise record kept of the
circumstances surrounding the tragedy with which that exhibit, is associated.
One of these knives had been included in the
collection not on the account, as it says, of association with a crime, but it
testifies to the bravery of a mounted constable' (M.C; Le Lievre) when at one
of our southern townships Upon being told that a sailor, had threatened to use
his sheath knife if he attempted to arrest him, the officer determinedly faced
the man took possession of the knife and arrested him. I heard no more of
this man until the Stepney Tragedy, which occurred a year or more after this incident.[1]
Next week: The Stepney Tragedy.
Researched and written by Allen Tiller ©2020
'MEMORIES
OF AN OLD POLICE OFFICER.', The Register, (6 October 1925), p. 12. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article64246910.
